Cinemathique

Fast Horse;
2001

Find it at:

Ever since the untimely dissolution of Temple of the Dog, music fans everywhere have been asking themselves,
"Where, oh where is that next great Seattle-based supergroup?" Likewise, zoologists everywhere have recently
been overheard asking themselves, "Where, oh where is that next great band named after a small burrowing
reptile indigenous to New Zealand and small surrounding islands?" Well, rejoice, because the wait is over.
Actually, the wait was technically over around 1996 when this here band Tuatara formed and recorded their
first album, but everyone pretty much forgot about them about two months after Breaking the Ethers
was released straight to cut-out bin. That record, to put it gently, sucked the almighty ass. Hence, when
Trading with the Enemy got issued in 1998, nobody gave half a shit.

Let's cut to the chase, though: Cinemathique is really terrible, especially for a third album. So
bad is this record, in fact, that I can't even manufacture any smartass sarcastic excitement over it.
Part of what I've told you so far is true, though: Tuatara is a 'supergroup,' in at least a few different
senses of the word. They are large in number-- 11 to be exact-- so you could safely say they are a
super-sized group. And counted among the lofty ranks of Tuatara is a fairly stellar group of individuals
in terms of name recognition. Completely tracing the bloodlines of this group would take a
Church-of-Latter-Day-Saints-trained genealogist. Peter Buck of REM is the supermost of said supergroup,
followed in superness by fellow Minus 5 member and former Young Fresh Fellow Scott McCaughey. Justin
Harwood from Luna and Screaming Trees' drummer Barrett Martin are both somewhat super, I suppose. And
this core is joined by a who's-who of indie rock sidemen and session pros, men and women who have appeared
on albums ranging from Les Claypool's Frog Brigade to Trout Fishing in America. However,
just because you're a supergroup in a purely technical sense doesn't mean you're a super group, understand?

As you might expect, Cinemathique presents us with soundtrack-style music. And judging from the cover
art, you might presume that the film being soundtracked here is some sort of unholy Tron-meets-Caligula
project (sorta like Femalien), but you'd be wrong. There actually is no film. If someone got it
in their head to make one based on the music of Cinemathique, though, it'd end up something like a
South Pacific/Bollywood-sci-fi-noir-porn (think Tron-meets-Caligula).

Back in the day (circa Temple of the Dog), tossing light instrumental jazz, by-the-numbers lounge groove,
and bongo-fueled world beat onto one record might have been a pretty risky move. But here it is 2002, and
the soundtrack music renaissance has passed its golden age, allowing this bastard horror of an LP to come
off like a clueless cash-in. In its defense, Cinemathique's range is impressive from a strictly
musical standpoint. Tuatara offer a proficient exotica vibe, a decent 70s-style cop show car chase theme,
a funky porn-style number, and even a bit of Gamelan. Problem is, I just don't buy it.

The strange thing is that the pitfalls that usually plague these sorts of all-star gatherings-- namely the
"too-many-cooks-in the-kitchen-syndrome"-- isn't the issue here. You see, perhaps wisely sensing this
potential problem, the entire cast of Tuatara decided to step into the background, opting to leave at home
any personality they might have brought to the project. And with this many distinct voices involved, the
strategy might have worked-- that is, if somebody, anybody had picked up the ball and ran with it.
I waited patiently for this to happen. It didn't. And so, nothing ever stands out: no idiosyncrasy, no
weirdness, nothing. Supergroups are supposed to chock themselves with an overabundance of personality;
this one just kinda coughs up a gray lump of room-temperature phlegm that could have been the product of
any sick little boy, or halfway proficient (i.e. far from super) group of musicians.

The closest thing Cinemathique has to a lead voice is the saxophone, but even this fine instrument
fails them. Oftentimes, it has the group coming off like a peppier Morphine-- which is to say, Morphine
devoid of darkness, which naturally defeats the whole purpose. Actually, it's like the sax player for an
airport hotel bar band found a Morphine cassette in his daughter's car and thought it would be fun to try
it out with the boys in the band, aiming for a smoky distant vibe of which he has no real clue.

Even so, Cinemathique is not unbearably irritating, and the musicianship is technically admirable
if you're into proficiency for proficiency's sake (Dream Theater fans, I'm talkin' at you). As for me,
I'd actually rather listen to Temple of the Dog-- something I can't say for too many records-- because at
least then I might have some sense of who's doing what. Hey, better yet, where's that Flying Lizards album?